


You're my Dad (Boogie Woogie Woogie)

by PrinceParrots



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25707085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceParrots/pseuds/PrinceParrots
Summary: An AU for a few friend's characters and mine.Just a few slice of life snippets of Morgan, a cynical, lazy, and yet overprotective dad navigating the strange world that is caring for his temperamental and sharp tongued adoptive son Finn. He's got a little help from friends and family but for the most part it's a wild ride full of learning experiences and father/son bonding.Tags will be updated as I go and the story may not be told in chronological order. I'll just write and update as I feel like since this is just for me and a few friends. I'm not exactly sure what direction I'm going in with this but I hope you enjoy!
Kudos: 1





	1. Morning Routine/Work

If he had been told at any point in his life that he’d be dealing with a temperamental teenager of no blood relation to him on a day to day basis, Morgan would have laughed in the person’s face with no remorse. He’d gone his whole life believing- _knowing-_ that kids were never going to be a part of it. He hadn’t even liked them when he was a kid. They didn’t listen, they were irresponsible, loud, annoying, and flat out rude. Many times he’d been told about the wonders of raising children, that eventually he’d come around and when his own baby was born he’d see how much of a blessing they are. That diapers, vomit, screaming, and the lack of sleep would all be worth it in the end. Still, he remained thoroughly convinced that raising even a single child was a masochist’s job.

And yet there he stood, playing an early morning game of tug-of-war with his adoptive son over the blankets on his bed.

“Finnegan! I won’t tell you again, you need to get up and get ready for school!”

“I don’t have to do shit for you, old man!” Finn pulled at the covers again, turning and effectively ripping the cloth from Morgan’s grasp to which he immediately rolled himself into a blanket burrito. Morgan huffed, checking his watch for the millionth time that morning and gritting his teeth as he read 7:36am.

“Finn, so help me I’ll pick you up and drag your ass to school like that. You have time to get dressed and get in the car and that is it young man.” Cerulean irises peeked over the edge of the blanket at him, eyebrows furrowed, squinting in a mean glare and Morgan could have sworn he heard a hiss. He tapped his foot against the carpet, glaring back at the other in a silent staring contest. “I’m giving you until the count of three.” Finn glared harder, daring him to begin counting and Morgan could feel veins begin to protrude from under his skin. “One.” Finn tugged the covers tighter. “Two.” A low growl emitted from the burrito, inhuman and quite frankly scary had it not been for the fact that Morgan had to hear it just about every day. “Three.” Finn’s head disappeared under the blankets and Morgan threw his hands in the air. “That’s it! I fucking warned you, you little shit!”

With that, Morgan scooped the Finn burrito into his arms and carried the kicking, screeching mess down the stairs and out to the car.

_7:53._

Enough time to get Finn to school and be approximately ten to fifteen minutes late for work. Perfect.

The drive was silent, save for the crackling, half static car radio and Finn’s aggressive typing away at his phone screen. Morgan stole a glance at him, gaze flickering between Finn, his phone, and the road. “Who you talking to?”

Finn rolled his eyes and pocketed the device, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets and slumping in the seat. “No one,” he muttered.

“I didn’t ask for a list of who wants to date you, I asked who you were talking to.” His lip twitched and he had to hold back a smile at Finn’s irritated groan.

“Fine! Nunya.”

“Nunya who?” The name didn’t sound the slightest bit familiar.

“Nunya business. Now fuck off geezer.”

If there was one thing Morgan regretted as a father, it was encouraging Finn’s sharp tongue by laughing at his shitty jokes. Yet he still found himself shaking his head and chewing his lip through breathy giggles. “Watch your tongue with me, boy.”

“Jesus, are you from the twenties? Who the fuck calls people ‘boy’ anymore?”

“Me, now get out of my car.” He pulled in front of the high school, pointing toward it and nodding his head. Another eye roll and Finn remained in place. “You keep rolling your eyes at me and they’ll get stuck back there. Get out. You have to go to school.”

Finn leered at him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Well, I don’t want to go to work and yet here we are. Life sure sucks, don’t it?” He motioned again toward the school building. “Out.”

“Fine, I’ll get out of the car but I’m skipping class.”

“Do that and I’ll beat your ass. Out.” Finn turned and glared out the window at the school, scrutinizing each person who walked by with a belligerence. Morgan took a breath, opening his mouth to speak unil Finn perked up, unbuckling his seatbelt and shoving the car door open hurriedly. Morgan raised an eyebrow, watching Finn yank his backpack from in front of the passenger seat. “Oh? What got you changing your mind so fast?”

Finn huffed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Nunya.”

Morgan deadpanned. “I’m not falling for it twice.”

Finn shrugged. “Your loss, fuckface.” With that he turned, slamming the door behind him and beginning a slow jog. Morgan pursed his lips, leaning down to stare out the window after Finn. The latter had taken about five steps before Morgan slammed his palm down onto the steering wheel, the car horn blaring as he rolled the window down. Several students turned, casting startled and disgruntled glances at him. Finn spun around, glaring daggers at Morgan.

“Have a good day, shithead!” He hollered out the window. Finn held his middle finger out at him, stomping off toward the school. Morgan sat back with a satisfied hum, watching him continue the last of his jog to catch up to another student. He eased his foot away from the gas, squinting at the person Finn had ran up to, offering a small wave as the other boy nodded in greeting. The kid was tall. _Really tall._ He easily dwarfed Finn standing next to him (not that Finn was a tall kid to begin with- being maybe only 5 foot 3 at most) and wasn’t lanky or thin as most teenagers were either. Strawberry blonde hair was swept back in a high ponytail, clad in grey sweats and a hoodie, looking as though he’d done just about the same as Finn; rolling out of bed and going to school immediately after. Morgan glared at him until the two disappeared into the building together, making a mental note to drill Finn about a certain _Mister Nunya_ later. He peeled out of the parking lot, suddenly very conscious of the amount of time he had left to get to work.

* * *

Morgan was going to lose his mind. He threaded his large hands through his hair, wanting nothing more than to take fistfuls of it and yank it out right then and there. Or maybe smashing his fist through an irritatingly grey cubicle wall would be more satisfying. Either way, having to sit hunched over a keyboard, subject to his fellow employees’ and customers’ bullshit wore his patience all too thin. By now he should have learned to tune out the white noise of random office sounds but every keyboard or mouse click, each cough or sniffle, and the ungodly buzzing of the overhead fluorescent tube lights threatened to make every blood vessel in his body burst.

He took a deep breath, leaning back in his swivel chair and looking around the room for some kind of momentary distraction from his own personal hell on earth. His eyes caught a poster hanging on the wall of the cubicle across the walkway from him, brightly colored with a kitten dangling by its front paws off of a rope, underneath it in big bold letters was an obnoxious “hang in there!”

He was going to lose his fucking mind.

“Heya Morgs!” Morgan jolted at the voice, fingernails digging into the arm rests of his chair as his eyes went wide, startled by the sudden presence beside him. He turned, staring wildly at bright eyes and dimpled cheeks that peered out from behind the cubicle wall at him. He frowned, sighing and rubbing his hands across his face tiredly.

“Hello Temmie,” he groaned. “You dyed your hair again?”

“Yup!” She chirped, twirling a lavender lock around her index finger. “My roots were starting to come in bad again and I thought this purple would be so much fun! Doesn’t it look better than plain old brown?”

“Is that up to the workplace standards?”

Temmie scoffed, shaking her head. “Standards schmandards. Nothing in the books saying I can’t have purple hair since I don’t see any customers in person.”

“Whatever you say,” he breathed, turning to face his computer again and resuming his mindless typing.

“Do you like it?”

“Always, Temmie.”

Temmie waltzed into the cubicle, leaning against the back of Morgan’s chair. “Maybe you should dye your hair too. You know, spice up some of those greys.”

“I do not have grey hair.”

Temmie smiled, leaning in to hug loosely around his shoulders. “Kids age you Morgs. It happens to everyone. That’s why you have to have fun with it! What do you think of blue?” We could do a dark one to start! Just to disguise the color a little.” She ruffled his onyx hair and he quickly slapped her hands away, brushing the wild strands back in place.

“No thank you. Don’t you have work to be doing instead of bugging me?”

“Nope!” She stepped back, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I’m on break right now. So I decided to check in on you! Heard you were late this morning.”

Morgan sighed, giving up on getting anything done while Temmie was within his vicinity. He slumped back, turning his chair to face her with a disgruntled huff. He rubbed slow circles into his temples. “Finn didn’t want to get up this morning. I had to drag him to school so the whole ordeal made me late.”

“Oh teenagers,” Temmie mused. “They’re just like that sometimes. All they do is eat and sleep. Like you!” Morgan glared at her, though the warning to stop talking sailed right over her head as she continued. “He’s a good kid. And you’re a good dad. An off morning isn’t the end of the world, Morgan.”

He tensed, looking up at Temmie, words falling out of his mouth before he had time to catch them and push them back down like he always did. “But am I though?”

Temmie blinked, expression falling. “Oh Morgan,” she sighed and he put his hands up in surrender, turning back to his desk again and resuming his work.

“No, forget it. I don’t know why I said that. It’s fine, this conversation is over.”

“Morgan,” Temmie whined, inching closer again.

“No. Temmie, this conversation is over.”

Temmie frowned, watching Morgan for a moment longer. She gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder, patting him softly. “You can always talk to me Morgs. That’s what friends are for.”

He stilled, nodding. “I know. Thanks.”

“Always.” She removed her hand, turning around and looking around the office. “We can talk about it over lunch if you want. Oh! And have you seen my new poster yet? It’s really cute it’s got a little kitten on it and-”

“Holy fucking shit Temmie!”


	2. Lunch Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn's POV and his day at school as well as a snippet of life at home and his introspection on his relationship with Morgan. They get each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colin is selectively mute and doesn't feel comfortable talking in public or to people he doesn't know well. He is however, comfortable talking to Finn but public settings still make him too anxious to speak out loud so he uses sign language so as to not be overheard. It helps him feel a little more like they're talking in private. 
> 
> All Finn's friends are aware of why exactly Finn was in the system as well . . .Enjoy!

His morning had been a nightmare. Every morning was a nightmare. Waking up was never an easy task, not when his bed was warm and freshly made and had a stronger beckoning call than school ever would. But still he’d been forced to get up and attend the accursed institution. Although, he had to admit that school did indeed have its perks. One being the blessed happenstance which was having not just one class with Colin, but three, as well as lunch; which made orchestra, marine science, and english his favorite classes. 

Lunch was undoubtedly his favorite part of school. No teachers telling him what to do, no boring lectures, and no listening to shitty peoples’ shitty opinions. Instead he’d make the trek to the hallway, away from voices and prying eyes and park himself on the floor next to Colin.

Colin looked over at Finn, holding two fingers up sideways and then flicking his pinky finger up in greeting. Finn nodded, sliding down the wall to plant himself next to Colin, rifling through his bag for his lunch. He pulled a sandwich out, holding it out toward Colin. “Tuna again,” he said and Colin took the item, planting a pudding cup in Finn’s hand in return. Finn grinned, tearing the foil top off and glancing at Colin again. “You know you really get the shit end of this deal, right?” 

Colin shrugged, signing _“I like tuna.”_

Finn snorted, shaking his head and holding his free hand out, to which Colin stared at it. He frowned, raising an eyebrow and slowly sliding his own hand into Finn’s, interlacing their fingers and giving his hand a soft squeeze. Finn stared down at their fingers through wide eyes, cheeks burning suddenly and he pulled his hand back almost violently. “I need a spoon, asshat! What, am I supposed to eat it with my hands?”

Colin buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent but hysterical laughter. He turned, fishing a plastic spoon out of his bag and handing it off to Finn who yanked it away with a huff. He signed a quick apology, though Finn turned away from him with a pout.

“Aww, look at how cute you two are!”

They both looked up to where the voice came from, Finn rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Angel.”

She giggled, hugging the man next to her tightly and ruffling his long, shaggy white hair. “Do you like what I did with Alastor’s hair?”

“He looks the same as always. Like a fuckin’ idiot.” Finn spat, Alastor sitting on the floor next to him and elbowing his ribs as Angel slid into place right next to him.

“Nonsense! I trimmed off all those nasty split ends. I think he looks handsome as ever. Which is why I think you and Colin both ought to let me have a go at cutting your hair too.” She singsonged.

Colin grimaced and Finn shook his head. “No way. You may have hair as shitty kinky as mine but you straighten it. No way you’re touching my head. Plus, you still can’t see Alastor’s eyes past that fucking mop on his head and his hair still goes to his asscrack. You really didn’t do much.” He motioned toward Alastor and Angel pouted. 

“So mean,” she whined. “Who hurt you?”

“When your white dad tries to save a few bucks but knows nothing about black hair, you end up a little traumatized.”

Alastor gasped suddenly, grasping Finn’s hands in his own. “Is that how you got that scar on your face? Did he attack you with scissors?”

“What? Are you fucking high?” Finn screeched and Alastor nodded somewhat regretfully. “Good god, of course you are. Morgan is an idiot but he’s at least got brains enough to not pull some Jack the Ripper shit on me.”

Colin waved his hands in a downward motion, catching Finn’s attention and quickly signing a _“what happened with your dad this morning?”_

Finn let out a heavy sigh, shrugging and shoving a spoonful of pudding into his mouth. He swallowed it down thickly, staring off into it. “Nothing. That’s how he always is.”

Colin frowned and Alastor scooted closer across the floor. “He yelled at you. And if I know you and your mom-“

“He told me to have a good day!” Finn snapped. “You don’t have to fuckin worry about Morgan of all people! He’s just some dumb asshole who wanted tax benefits or some shit. He’s just fuckin’ stupid. Stupid but he’s not mean. Not like my mom.” His throat felt dry and sore and he blinked rapidly.

“Finn,” Angel sighed, rubbing his arm slow and soothing, gentle back and fourth motions down the length of his sleeve. “We know you love Morgan and-“

“I don’t!” He pulled away, slicing through the air with his hands. “I don’t fucking care about Morgan. Okay? He’s an asshole but he doesn’t _hit_ me. I know that’s what you dumb shits were getting at and I can take care of myself just fine.”

Angel and Alastor shared sympathetic looks but didn’t press the issue further. The rest of the lunch period was spent in relative silence until the bell rang and they each headed off to their next classes. 

* * *

At least seventh period orchestra rendered him able to sit back, ghost his bow over his violin strings, and focus his attention on watching Colin gracefully glide his own bow over the large bass straddled between his legs. He had a habit of playing with his eyes closed. Finn had asked him about it once, only to be told that it was to focus more on the music than on the notes. To feel it and not spend so much time sweating all the technical things. It hadn’t made much sense and to be truthful, it still didn’t. Colin had a way of making everything cryptic and it simultaneously infuriated and yet drew Finn in. Either way, his habit made it so Finn was able to stare lazily over at him as he played until it came time to pack up and head home. He had to admit, walking beside Colin and watching his muscles flex under the weight of his bass was also a major plus; especially when it came time to heave it up and slide it into the backseat of Colin’s uncle’s car. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to Colin, though he willingly talked (or rather yelled) and worked from home, always insisting to pick Colin up and subsequently holler his greetings to Finn on a day to day basis before the two took off and Finn was left to his own devices.

He’d been offered a ride home just about every day but still he refused. Impeding on their day and staring wistfully at Colin for a minute longer than he already had all day might drive him mad. Still, Colin’s family- more specifically his uncle James, being the only family member of Colin’s that Finn had actually met- were the only people Finn found himself being polite to. Even Morgan upon Finn’s adoption had been given his fair share of cussing out and crude nicknames, a tradition that still persisted and likely would never fade. The difference is that Morgan had never returned Finn. Every day Finn tried to decipher Morgan’s ulterior motive for keeping him around and he still had yet to conclude exactly what it was. Tax benefits was always his excuse but Finn couldn’t imagine that the benefits actually outweighed the price that was caring for him. Morgan was simply a sad, single dad with a boring office job and not much to do with his time other than lecture Finn about school, watch T.V. and pass out with a bottle of beer on the sofa. That had been the only concrete conclusion Finn managed to reach. Morgan had been sorted out into Finn’s mental categories as a “major asshole” from day one. Still, Finn liked to keep him in that box as the man- the dickhead who sent him to the prison known as school, gave him money on occasion, and provided him with a place to stay and some food until he was out of high school and on track to get kicked out to fend for himself.

Still with his hard mental borders of who he likes and dislikes, Morgan had managed to worm his way into his own personal category. Something obscure and ineffable that made Finn’s head hurt and his blood boil when he thought about it too much. Morgan still pissed him off to no end, he was a lazy asshole with no direction in life, no accomplishments, still riding on the high that was when he peaked in high school as the football captain. He had been a pathetic man who probably only wanted to adopt a kid to have some form of accomplishment in his older years since no one would ever want to marry him. Maybe a savior complex of rescuing the poor, abused boy with a tragic past and the need for a good father. Yet despite all that, Finn still found comfort in the fact that through all his issues and tantrums, Morgan never sent him back. Morgan felt warm and welcoming under his calloused exterior. He felt like home. And with each passing day, Finn realized how alike the two really were. He couldn’t tell if he hated or loved Morgan for it more. 

Those thoughts plagued Finn’s mind as he walked home until he shoved his key into the front door and shouldered it open with a routine call of “I’m home” to an empty house.

* * *

The door clattered open, smacking into the wall behind it with a loud thud and an irritated groan. More shuffling about sounded as Morgan slipped off his work shoes, tripping down the entryway into the bulk of the house and stumbling out to the livingroom where Finn sat with a textbook on the coffee table and a notebook in his lap, staring up at Morgan, less than impressed by his ever so graceful entrance. “We need to get one of those door things.” Morgan said suddenly.

Finn raised an eyebrow, still pulling a mildly disgusted face. “Door things?” he echoed.

Morgan nodded. “The little doodads at the bottom of the door that stops it from hitting the wall. You know, you flick them and they make the boing noise.”

“The boing noise.”

“Yes. The boing noise.”

Finn peeled his upper lip back in disgust, shaking his head and looking back at his homework. “I fucking hate you. And it’s more of a fart noise.”

Morgan rolled his eyes, throwing himself down on the couch next to Finn and beginning to fidget with his tie. “I don’t know what kind of farts you have but I think you might need to see a doctor,” he muttered, still fumbling with the cloth around his neck.

Finn scoffed, glaring at Morgan and watching him struggle for a minute before he let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward, undoing the knot and tugging the tie off, throwing it back in Morgan’s face. “You’re so fucking stupid. How the hell did CPS let you have a kid when you can’t tie or untie a tie?”

Morgan glared back, holding the tie up. “I’ll strangle you with this.”

“Do it. You’d be doing me a favor by putting me out of my misery.” Finn spat.

Morgan sat back, a small smile playing at his lips. “You’re a morbid child. And that’s why I got you. My own personal tie tie-er.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“Would you like chinese or or thai takeout for dinner tonight?”

“Thai.”

Morgan nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and searching up a menu. The two sat silently for a few minutes, Morgan focused on trying to be reasonable about his order size and Finn staring at him expectantly, his pencil trailing light scribbles over his homework. Finn cleared his throat, still staring at Morgan who appeared more focused on choosing between pad see ew and pad thai until he shrugged and added both to his order. Finn cleared his throat again, louder that time and still after no reaction he kicked Morgan’s leg with a frown which only succeeded in earning him a one second glare. He huffed, throwing his pencil at Morgan who jumped and dropped his phone on the floor, staring down at it through pure shock and anger before he looked up at Finn. “A what the fuck?”

Finn pouted angrily, crossing his arms. “Did you have a shit day or something?”

Morgan’s expression softened and he scooped his phone up off the floor. “Yeah, actually. Work was overwhelming and these dumbasses kept asking me stupid questions they should have already known the answers to. I mean- if they don’t know simple shit like how to attach a file to an email, what the hell are they getting paid for?” He threw his hands in the air and heaved a sigh, sitting back against the couch cushions, arms sprawled out across the back. “Temmie had this damn poster- one of those motivational ones. It sure motivated me to throw myself out the fifth story window. This dumb fucking cat hanging from a rope that said-”

“Fucking hang in there!” Finn finished, his fingers curling into tight, white knuckled fists. “My math teacher has the exact same fucking one and I swear I’ve never been so close to committing arson!”

The two both chuckled, throwing themselves into a giggle fit. Once Morgan’s breathing calmed and the bubbly little laughs ceased long enough for him to talk he looked to Finn again, eyebrows knitting together. “How’d you know?”

Finn threw him a questioning look, tilting his head to the side. “I see that poster every damn day and it makes me want to stab my eyeballs out with my pencil?”

Morgan sputtered momentarily, shaking his head. “No, I mean how did you know I had a rough day?”

“Oh, easy.” Finn turned back to his textbook, pulling another pencil out of the bag on the floor beside him. “You didn’t ask me how school was. You always ask first thing when you get home.”

Morgan froze and for a moment it felt as though the whole world had stopped. He stared at Finn, too many thoughts and feelings hitting him all at once to where it was almost overwhelming and he felt the need to get up and leave. To run and keep running until his feelings gave up the chase and he could go back to being apathetic to the world around him. He swallowed hard, his throat burning from all the words eager to escape him so instead he sat with his hands folded in his lap, fingers drumming against his phone steadily. “I-” he had to swallow again, his voice coming out too weak and croaky. “I didn’t think you noticed.” He decided on and he winced when Finn snorted, his mocking laugh that told Morgan the thing that went through Finn’s head in that moment was _‘you’re so stupid.’_

“I always notice when you do dumb shit. I got a whole blackmail list going.”

Morgan breathed a short, one breath huff of air that held only a slight semblance of a laugh at the warm feeling that slowly grew and threatened to choke him out.


End file.
